Beauty and the Phantom
by The Wizard's Daughter
Summary: What if Beauty and the Beast actually happened, but not in the way the Disney movie portrays it? This is the story of a beauty, who by Fate design, becomes one of the most coveted women in Paris to all. But will this life be the one she wants or will she return to her Beast to discover music once more?
1. Chapter 1

" Once upon a time, in a far off land lived a young prince. The land that surrounded his castle was green and fertile. The prince though, was spoiled selfish and cold, even though he got everything he wanted. One winter night when the cold drew its freezing fingers upon the glass, a woman came to the castle asking for shelter from the storm. Her payment was a single rose. The prince at the sight of this haggard woman scoffed at the gift and sent her away. But the woman told him not to be deceived by what he saw before him, even so the prince still denied her a place to stay. At once her ugly appearance dissolved into a beautiful sorceress. The prince in terror, tried to ask for forgiveness but she had already seen that there was no love in his heart. She turned him into a beast, a monster, which everyone feared. Thus the prince hid himself away in his castle with only a magic mirror as a way for him to glimpse the world he once knew. All around his castle the land withered under the curse, and his subjects began leaving in search of better fortune, and when everyone had gone, the Beast cried out in despair. For his curse could only be broken by a true love kiss, which if not given before the last petal on the sorceress's red rose fell he would stay a beast forevermore. But as the years came and went the Beast slowly forgot about the outside world: for who could ever learn to love a beast?"

I read those words over and over again; my favorite part in a story that my father used to read me. I set the book down as the candle stub on my bedside table guttered. Blowing it out, I stared up into the cavernous ceiling of the Opera House. All around me the snoring and grunting of fellow ballet dancers made me smile, when I heard it. A whisper of someone walking in the rafters. I slid out of my bed, dressed in nothing more than a small boy's shirt and a pair of pants that I snitched from one of the operas a few months ago. I followed the sound out of the dorm onto the main stage where my footsteps echoed alarmingly. Suddenly the swishing noise stopped, as did I in the middle of the stage. A voice, male from what I could tell, slithered in my ear and told me to sing. I swiftly rubbed my ear, but the voice had relocated itself into my other ear.

" Sing." The voice was more forceful this time unhinging my vocal cords. An old Irish song that I had heard the stagehands sing issued forth in a squeaky soprano. The voice sighed and told me to stop.

Listen, before you start singing, take a deep breath to relax your vocal cords. Now try again" Once more, following his instruction, I let the song resume for about 30 seconds when he interrupted me again.

" No, no, no. Your pitch is all wrong. The notes you should hit flow like this." That was the first time I had heard such a voice. Tenor made true, but it could hit the notes as high as a soprano and low as a base. It sent tingles up and down my spine and I shuddered.

" Now sing it again. I tried to mimic the way he hit the notes and my voice rang throughout the opera house.

"Better. You still need work though. Is there a place where you can go so that no one will come and look for you?" I nodded and told him of the Opera chapel.

Yes, a good place for study such as ours. It has good acoustics and you will need that. Meet me there at 10 o'clock tomorrow night then shall begin your studies." And with that the voice was gone. I walked back to the dorm and got back into bed. But as I closed my eyes I heard his voice again; this time singing me to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

" Christine. Its time to wake up my sweet." The sunlight shone upon the white sheets that I cuddled in. Raoul was already up and dressed in his finest frock and vest. The nightgown I had on felt disgraceful suddenly as I guessed the price of each of those things he decorated himself in.

" Are you alright?" His question pieced my bubble of musing thoughts and I made a small sound in my throat.

" You have been talking in your sleep again. Is he still bothering you, if so I can get you a sleep tonic." I smiled.

" Its not that. I didn't even dream about him." The lie slipped out before I could capture it behind my teeth. " I actually had a dream about the time we met on the roof of the Opera House." I was too deep into the lie to stop now. Raoul's eyes sparkled with lustful light and a dirty feeling came over me as if I landed in a gutter.

Well, I have to get to the Opera House, or the steps at least." I laughed.

People who heard me sing before the fire destroyed the Opera House would come and listen to me sing old hymns and other lady like songs. Where everyone chose to meet was on the steps of the Opera Populaire before going into the hotel across the street to have tea and cakes while sharing the latest gossip of the town. I guess that is what you get for being part of Paris's upper class, lies and deceit that would poison one's soul. I sighed at the thought and getting out of bed kissed Raoul good-bye.

"Oh by the way, my love. It is wet today, so bundle yourself up. I don't want my rose to wilt with a cold." He rubbed arm in a lover's caress and looking back once more was gone. He never called me anything but "my rose" he claimed he didn't like any of the others, but I could tell he was lying from a mile away. He didn't call me anything else because of Erik. Erik stole all the good ones, the ones that can make a woman's heart dance in flattery and love.

"Erik." His name was like poison to me. Could injure me in one way, but draw me to him in another. The more I said it the more painful and soothing it became. It has been less than three months since I stared into his scarred face and saw his soul unmasked before me. That sight when I chose to conjure it up made me burn with guilt. For I never loved Raoul, I probably never would. But I was scared of the feelings that Erik divulged from me and now I would never see him again.

" A price that I paid. If only I could see him again." I chuckled quietly looking for a dress when I heard a soft tap at the door.

" What did you forget this time Raoul?" I still wore that nightgown when I flung open the door not to Raoul, but to Erik, his hands covered in blood.

She stood in front of me in a nightgown that barely covered her nakedness. I would have blushed in embarrassment if I could, but I was losing too much blood. Christine was still staring at me with eyes betraying her shock at me on her doorstep, her face as white as my mask.

" Erik?" She whispered and I smiled slightly. " Oh my God!" She grabbed me avoiding the wound in my side as best as she could. Hauling me inside, she sat me down on the bed slowly and ordered me to take off my jacket and shirt. Both I noticed, were soaked with blood, but not as much as I thought. I couldn't help but to sigh with relief which Christine's ears sensitive ears picked up.

" What did you do to yourself?" Her question stung as if she just slapped me across the face.

" You think I did this?" I whispered hoarsely.

" Well that is what it looks like now doesn't it. If you wanted to see me you could have just asked instead of coming up with the ridiculous attempt at sucide to get my attention."

" The only reason I came here," I growled menacingly at her. " Was because you are the only person I knew in the area that would willing to help me. That is it, no some attempt at suicide. I just came here for some bandages and soon I will be leaving."

I leaned back unto the pillows behind me and watched as Christine disappeared into the other room for a few moments only to return with a set of bandages and a bottle of liquor.

"Here." She shoved them into my hands and grabbing a dress off of a hanger vanished into the bathroom. I opened the whiskey and took a swig, wincing as it burned a trail down my throat. I never liked liquor, it always had a bitter aftertaste, like the love Christine, no the love that I had for Christine. But all pain can be numbed and just like my music numbed the pain of losing Christine, the whiskey numbed the pain of the wound. Slowly I sat up and began to wrap myself in the clean bandages. After what seemed like eternity I had enough gauze on to add a bit of padding to my once lean physique. The blood stopped flowing and grabbing the other rolls, I stuffed them into my pockets in my jacket. Suddenly like a ghost, Christine appeared from the bathroom dressed in a bright yellow sundress the came up to her knees.

Are you done?" Her sarcastic tone startled me. She had never taken on such a tone with me, only affirming my knowledge of her love for that "fop".

"Yes. Now," Hauling my self up into a standing position, I studied her face, pinched in anger.

" I am leaving. Goodbye." I turned as best as I could and nearly made it to the door when she asked a question that I had been longing to hear.

"Why did you come here?" I smiled to myself and turning my head slightly, I replied with words that were a lie to the core.

" Not for you Christine. Not anymore and from now on, nevermore." And I shut the door behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

My heart gave out on me. I could have sworn that I had stopped breathing the minute he said those words to me. As I watched him walk out on me, the flavor of bile rose up choking me. Running to the bathroom I retched as burning tears cascaded down my cheeks. Finally after a little while, I managed to get my sobbing under control and stepping out of the bathroom, realized that Raoul had returned. His clothes were soaked and in his vain search for an umbrella, he had ripped three of his buttons off from his vest.

" Oh Christine I didn't hear you come in. Have you seen the umbrella?" His back was turned towards me and taking the opportunity, rushed over to the bed and covered up the bloodstains that Erik left behind.

" Uh, no I haven't. Could you have left it in the carriage?" I saw him nod in agreement and turning, asked why in the world I was wearing the bright yellow dress on a rainy day.

" Well, I just thought I would brighten up a bit. You know I hate rainy days, so dark and cold. " I walked over to the window with deliberate grace and looked out. There across the street with white mask and all, stood Erik. He was staring at the window until he caught sight of me and from where I stood I could have sworn I saw his eyes widen and he vanished into the alley behind him at a run, his cloak billowing behind him. I chuckled at the sight.

"What is so funny?" Raoul suddenly appeared beside me. " Oh I was just watching that couple down there." I nodded to a couple near the jewelry store.

" Remember when we were that young?" He wrapped his arms around me and I felt his damp warmth bleed through the thin fabric of my sundress. Shrugging off his embrace, I told him that I needed to change.

" Yes, you don't want to keep your adoring fans waiting." And giving me a peck on the lips dashed out the door with umbrella in hand.

" Odd. I know he didn't find it, so that means he must have had it when he came in." The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning." That little bastard!" The words were fitting after all. He was spying on me. " Yes dear I would trust you with my life." Ha, if he trusted me like that then why was he spying on me?

" Erik" I murmured as I pieced together what happened. Erik must have been keeping an eye on me, his angel. He knew he wouldn't get me back, but he could make sure the Raoul did no harm to me.

" So, if he was keeping an eye on me Raoul must have found out. The wound he had wasn't his fault after all it was Raoul's.

" Damn it you two. I hate being pinned between affections." I snarled and changed quickly into my black suit of velvet, I grabbed my mask.

" Two can play the same game Erik. You may be the Phantom of the Opera;" I smiled as I tucked my hair under the wig I ordered custom made and slid on the mask.

" But I am the Opera Ghost." And with those words I was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain patted my back gently as I walked back to the Opera House. On days like this no one was out and about, so I could be and not be ridiculed for it, or beaten. A few scars remembered their pain at the thought and I stretched to ease them. Looking down at the watch that I had pickpocket from a many years ago I calculated the time it would take Christine to get to the front steps of the newly rebuilt Paris Gariner.

" Less than 30 minutes to get there and then vanish with her pack into the hotel. I am 10 minutes away so, that means I would be able to see her enter the theater like she promised her cohorts to do last time." I murmured when I saw it. Out of the corner of my right eye, the one hampered by the mask I wore, a shadow flitting behind me.

" Hmmm this one knows to stay on my right side." Suddenly a very vivid memory of a chance encounter brought a sinking suspicion.

" So we meet again, my old friend. Come back to terrorize my opera like you did before." My words were overheard by this shadow and it stopped where I did.

" So you can hear me?" I wanted to laugh but keeping calm in such situations was key to my survival tactic. The shadow nodded and then with no provocation disappeared, only to reappear above my head running across the rooftops like a cat. I hit full gear, flying from the alley in hot pursuit. A couple appeared out of nowhere and with as much grace as the ballet dancers I dodged them. Carts became a problem, but grabbing onto a few of them I was able to avoid getting run down by a horse. Soon we, it, and me, reached the Opera House where it ran through the door on the roof. I followed close behind only to discover empty air.

" Damn!" I nearly screamed as I lost my long time foe again into the bowels of my Opera House.

" Come out! I know you're in here. Why won't you show yourself?"

" Why should I?" The question was peppered with a sarcastic tone, but as I turned around I came face to face with my enemy.

He was short, but muscular. Wearing a suit that resembled mine only made of a more sumptuous fabric, he stared at me crossed armed and sitting on the rafters before me. But it was the mask that scared me. Oh, I could tell it was mask; the detail though was so exquisite that at first it even fooled me that there was someone out there worse than I was. I took a step forward, but the man only laughed, shrilly.

" Oh, the Phantom thinks he can scare a Ghost, now doesn't he. How cute." He leapt up with cat like grace, the yellow eyes of his burning holes into mine. But underneath the cold stare I sensed warmth and laughter.

" Well if you want to get me to talk, you're going to have to catch me. Come on, little Phantom, let's watch you play ghost hunter." And with a flash, he stole my mask. It was so fast that I didn't even react fro the first few seconds, but instinct took over and my hand flew immediately to my face.

" Give it back." I snarled, but the ghost merely shook his head no and vanished into the forest of ropes. I sighed and removing my hand began the chase. At first it was easy I was always able to see him, but once we got to the open, the illusions began. I kept seeing doubles of him, and only when I got up close I realized they were reflections. But the point was clear; this Ghost wanted me to see who I was without the mask. Soon though, the game became boring for him, because he just left my mask on one of the mirrors.

" So, now since you have seen yourself without the mask, how do you feel?" His voice made me jump out of my skin. High pitched and raspy, it emanated from all around me. I merely growled in reply, when a sharp scream cut through the silence. Down below a young woman appeared or at least I thought it was. The Ghost had on one of the brat's dresses and mimicking a woman yelled,

" It's the Phantom of the Opera!" In his best version of a woman's voice, a voice that sounded very familiar. Suddenly he was gone, only to be replaced with the suit-wearing Ghost once more.

" You never answered me." He appeared beside me once more with a skill better than mine ever could be.

" Why should I? You stole my mask, taunted me and then asked me how I feel? Hoe do you think I would feel?"

" Well I don't know, I have no need to wear a mask, like yours, but when mine was stripped away, I FELT FREE!" Suddenly he fell off the catwalk railing as I looked down,  
" Think the stage is pretty don't you? Well everyone has their weird fetishes." I myself nearly fell off as he leaned over the railing like I was.

" That's it! I don't care whom in the hell you are," I began poking him the chest watching in pleasure as he backed up.

" But you will get out of my Opera House!" And as if on cue, I felt it. It was a ring tucked into his shirt, but it was ring that I knew so very well. With a quick jerk of the wrist I ripped off the mask and the wig just as,

" Christine?" I felt the blood in my face drain. Her eyes yellow like a sunset stared back and with a blue flash disappeared. Reappearing on the stage, she glared at me.

" You should have never done that Erik. Now your life and mine are in jeopardy just like they once were before, but not from you, from someone more powerful than you'll ever realize." And with that she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

" Stupid idiot. I try to save his life by talking about what Raoul is doing and what is his great and wonderful plan, he returns the favor that I did to him, on the night he decided to burn the Opera down."

I snarled at a stray cat making it hiss and scramble back over the fence it came from. I sighed at the sight.

" At least your free. No need to fear those around you, can find love without having people be disgusted at you for it." The velvet was hot and beginning to smell funny in the rain. Suddenly a smell reached my nose. It was Raoul walking down the same street as I was. Panicking, I followed the path the cat took over the fence and crouched there. Raoul seemed to know I was there and followed me. As soon as he stopped a woman in came in after him. Grabbing each other I watched him kiss her more passionately than he ever did to me. I sat there and stared with a mix of having my heart ripped out and a sense of relief. I wanted to jump over the fence and strangle him because it was then I knew he didn't trust me and never would. Tears were making my mask stick to my face and that is when it hit me. Letting out a sharp whistle, I watched as they broke and disappearing, grabbed Raoul and shoved him against the alley wall. I felt pleasure as his eyes dilated in fear at the sight of me. The woman screamed and a sharp glare from me put her in her place. Raoul's heart was hammering, his pulse jumping like rabbits under my fingers.

" So we meet again." My voice made him turn white and easing some of the pressure around his throat let him breathe.

" You're not that beast…" My hand squeezed tighter and bludgeoned his head against the wall.

" Oh, you mean my rival. He is very kind you know, but with the mask and his inability not to bear soul at everyone he meets, well that makes him a beast doesn't it? Raoul squirmed but another quick bang ended it.

" I thought I shot you?" He snarled and I laughed.

" Oh you did. I was merely a flesh wound though. Actually a ghost wound, really. No pain, no blood, no nothing."

" If you're just a ghost how are you choking him then?" The girl piped up and a sharp hiss silenced her.

" This is taking up enough energy as is. Now I just came here to give you a warning, your little rose knows and is leaving tonight. Do not try to stop her because if you do, I shall personally cut off your balls and hang you by your own entrails, Understood?" He nodded and I let him drop to the ground. He tried to stand up coughing as he did, but I watched him nearly fall into a puddle of mud. I sighed in agitation.

" The one thing I shall never know is why Christine fell for you, you little bastard." And with that I disappeared with my signature blue flash.


	6. Chapter 6

I still couldn't quite comprehend what just happened. I walked back to my home in a daze and sitting down to my organ thought about what happened.

" No wonder she wasn't afraid of me." I felt a small smile tug at my lips and it turned into a few notes, then into a song. I could picture her face, those beautiful golden eyes staring at me, not in horror, but in embarrassment of being caught by me. I started to fall into my musical trances when a blue flash lit up the back wall. Turning swiftly, I saw Christine standing there wearing one of my shirts and the velvet pants she had on earlier. In her left hand was a suitcase; her right hand was pressed to her stomach where a small patch of red was picked up by my keen eyes. Looking up at her face, she smiled and closing her eyes, fell backwards into the lake. I have never moved as fast I did at that moment. Picking her up gently I carried her to my bed and ripping open her shirt saw that she had been shot.

" Erik?"

" Shhh. Don't speak. I'll take care of you." Suddenly her hand, formed into a fist punched me in the shoulder.

" You lied to me." Her lips were trying to form a smile but her muscles weren't obeying her. I chuckled.

" Well I had to figure out a way to get you back here." Her eyes fluttered closed and running back into the other room, I grabbed to bandages and brandy out of my jacket she gave me. Her blood was beginning to soak into my sheets as I cradled her and pouring small drops of brandy on the wound felt her flinch. I wrapped a few strips of cloth around him as the bleeding slowed. Soon it stopped and closing my eyes, fell asleep with Christine in my arms.

" Erik?" Her voice woke me from the best sleep I had in years.

" Hmmm?"

" What happened?" I opened one eye and stared her. Her brow was furrowed as she tried to remember what happened. I pulled myself up on my elbows and gave her a look of confusion. She told me that she went home to pack after she found Raoul cheated on her and while she was packing, he barged through the door and shot her. After that she didn't know anything besides blinding pain. I filled in the blanks for her and she thanked me.

" Well, better get going." She smiled and pulling herself off the bed, watched her teeth grit together in pain.

" Where?" I felt my heart panic at the thought. She shrugged and opening her suitcase pulled out a clean shirt and a pair of scissors. I watched as she twisted her hair into a ponytail and judging the length she wanted it, snipped it off. I gasped; I couldn't help it. I loved her hair and watching it fall unto the ground beside my bed, made me want to cry.

" Erik. Don't worry. Once I get out of town, I'll grow it back." She smiled and shaking her head let her new cut fall around her face. The cut was short and made her look like a young man.

" What do you mean by out of town?"

" I am hitching a ride out of Paris."

" To where." She shrugged and placing the scissors back into the bag, she pulled a holster that she obviously stole from Raoul, grabbed on of my jackets. Coming over she gave a pack on the cheek, wished me luck and vanished. A small slip of paper didn't follow her through and picking it up saw that she had a 2pm to the coast and then onto London.

" Well let's see who get there first." I murmured and grabbing another jacket ran to get to the station.


	7. Chapter 7

At first I couldn't see her through the acrid smoke that permeated the clothing one wore to ride, but after a few moments of searching I found her by the train set for Le Havre. Her face was pale and she shook in the cold that blew from the tracks. Pushing forward I tried to wade through the unloading passengers from Rouen. As I turned I saw him, Raoul with a gun to Christine's head. She was squirming as to get away, but he was too strong from her. He said something to her and she stopped struggling, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

" She can't vanish anymore can she?" The thought made me want to leap over the many carts and the many people who were in between her and me. Suddenly I felt the sharp poke of a blade in my spine at the place where I knew that if they plunged that knife into me I would never walk again.

" Start walking slowly. If you make any chance to escape she dies; do you understand?" The man's voice was harsh and cold like a snake. I merely nodded and he drove me on the point of the knife to an alleyway.

" You know, after I kill you, I'll make sure you're little Christine won't walk right for a week." He whispered in my ear like a snake and a feeling like I had never felt before made my blood burn. The color red tinted my vision as I swung my elbow into the man's gut. I heard the "ooofff", as I twisted and pulling the knife from his hand, slit his throat. The blood sprayed the wall beside me and the man fell forward his hands wrapped around his open neck. I admired the knife with its gilt handle and sharpened blade, it was a bit small for my taste, but shrugging I wiped the blood of on the man's shirt then stuffed it into my pocket. Walking back into the station I saw Raoul push Christine into a luggage car.  
" Christine!" My voice echoed around the station, Raoul's ears heard it and I saw the flash as I bullet sped towards me. I saw it, the bullet smoothly rotating towards me, its shining point aimed right for my heart. Stepping aside, life sped up and the bullet pinged off the of the train behind me. Screams echoed throughout the station, my body reacted in instinct at the screams. A vivid memory of having a young woman throwing bricks at me made me start running towards the train that held my Christine. The train started moving as I sped to catch up, but as I leapt to grab on, I saw Raoul with his gold plated flintlock aim and pain unlike any I have known made my arm go limp and plunging onto the tracks saw the world go black.


	8. Part II, Chapter I

_10 years later_

" I still don't remember all of my past, but fragments have been returning." He sat there, his day clothes slightly rumpled from long travel, but never the less unfazed by everything. His mask white as bone glowed slightly in the dim lamplight of the parlor. Across from sat a man, with hawk eyes and a look of subtle interest masking his face.

" So, how would you like me to help?" His voice seemed to be etched with the London tongue making it hard for his client to understand.

" I would like you to help me hunt down a man who may know where my Christine is. Or at least give me the money to." The voice was harsh and discordant compared to the figure this man imposed, Sherlock noticed and he seemed to be out of sorts. His fingers twitched constantly, long and supple, the hands of a musician. He also saw that he never made direct eye contact. His vibrant eyes showed wariness as if someone was out to get him. Sherlock smiled, he always loved tracking people and this man made it all the more interesting.

" Only if you take off your mask first." Sherlock watched the man's eyes flare with anger but a subtle incline of the head gave permission.

" Watson, leave." Sherlock's voice was hard and cold, startling the man. Watson left quickly and shut the door behind him.

" All the way John. " He smiled as he heard the door click.

" Sorry about my friend. He is always a curious character." The man let loose a small smile. Sherlock nodded towards the mask he wore. The man's face grew sorrowful as his hands lifted up to reveal the face underneath. It was scarred, but he could tell that it wasn't from birth.

" So how did you get scarred in such a manner?" The man smiled distorted the right side of his face.

" My father. I had always been the favorite of my mother's and my father hated me for it. He was a master mason and when I was born my father saw how much I was like the angels he carved. When I was three years old he took me to his workshop and promptly told me to start carving chess pieces. When I was done he threw liquid cyanide in my face. The pain was unbearable and I picked up the carving knife he gave me and stabbed him repeatedly with it. I managed to wash most of it of the poison off, but not before it did this." He pointed to his face, and Sherlock saw how painful the memory was.

" I see that you are a musician?"

"Just like you. You must be a violin player." The man made a small wink, almost reflectively. Sherlock smiled. He was warming up to this strange man who could read people's body language as well as he could.

" Your fingers. They are long and thin, and they twitch slightly as if playing the scales on the violin." Sherlock was pleasantly surprised.

" You're a piano player aren't you? Your fingers know the cool feeling of the ivories." The man nodded and replaced the mask. Sherlock could also tell that he was someone that people would fear.

Sherlock's mind suddenly remembered an article he read in the paper 10 years to the date.

" You're the Opera Ghost aren't you?" The man started violently and standing up quickly straightens his jacket.

" I don't go by that anymore!" He hissed at Sherlock and started towards the door.

" I'll help you find her." He murmured and The Ghost stopped. He reached out and snagging Sherlock's collar, picked him up out of the chair as if he was a cat.

" If your lying to me, so help me God," The man's voice dropped to a whisper,

" I will kill you, just as I killed Joseph Buquet. Do you understand me?" Sherlock nodded and the Ghost dropped him. He hit the chair hard, knocking the breath out of him.

" Lets get going then. I don't have all the time in the world you know." And Sherlock regaining his breath grabbed his jacket and followed the previous tenet of the Opera Populaire on an adventure neither would ever forget.


	9. Part II Chapter II

Sherlock watched the Opera Ghost with interest, then just subtle distaste. The Opera Ghost was a quiet man with his dreams clouding his vision. He began to hum quietly as they sat in the carriage, but it was off key and very much to the annoyance of Sherlock.

" Will you stop humming? My ears are beginning to bleed." Sherlock hissed and he suddenly felt a stripe of cold steel touch the flesh that made up his neck. A scimitar, but the look of it in the dim light of passing street lamps, was held there. Sherlock's pulse raced and he smiled, easing away from the weapon. The Ghost had begun humming again and slowly sheathed the sword. Sherlock made a note to himself not to piss this man off.

" So where are ya going?" The cabby's voice slithered into the carriage, his Scottish accent coming through.

" Train station and hurry." The Ghost's voice sounded like he was from England from his birth; Sherlock hated him for it. Who ever this man was before, he had a long history that intrigued the great Sherlock Holmes. They reached the train station with no other incidents and the Sherlock paid the man generously for his services. When he turned the Ghost was gone into the crowd. Sherlock sighed and began weaving his long limbed body through the people. Finally he caught sight of him, getting on the train to Budapest.

" Budapest?" Sherlock had the indescribable feeling of helplessness welled in his heart. Never had someone baffled Sherlock as much as this man had and the Ghost knew it. Unlike a normal person who would have been asked to pay on the spot, the Ghost didn't and he was making Sherlock come with him, using Sherlock's unquenchable curiosity.

" Are you coming?" The Ghost had reappeared and at the same time startling Sherlock.

" Oi, you scared the bloody daylights out of me. Now where in the hell are we going?" The Ghost just smiled and glided onto the train. Sherlock followed with indignation brewing in his stomach, making him sick.

They got onto the train and found a nice window seat. A few minutes later, they both felt the train lurch out of the station and began its mission to Budapest. Sherlock's mind was kept busy as people came in and out of their cars, cutting through to the dinning car and such, for some much-needed entertainment. The Ghost on the other hand seemed to be asleep, but when Sherlock shifted he saw his hand dart instantly to the sword he kept carefully covered. It had been nearly a day since they left London and Sherlock finally fell asleep. The world outside was dark and rainy but the Ghost saw more than everyone else. He could see the trees in autumn's grasp and could smell the sweet smell of snow soon coming. He sighed, Christine would have loved this; just them on a trip together. No reason, no way of knowing where they were heading, no…

He heard a sharp scream cut the air on the train and he stood up quickly. A young woman ran into the car followed by a man dressed in a black cloak much like his. He had a mustache that made the Ghost picture a porcupine on a pig, but what worried him were the two canines glittering in the lamplight. The man made his way towards the Ghost only to get a sword in his chest.

" I come from my master." The man's accent betrayed where he came from. The Ghost nodded for him to continue, the man's smile grew bigger.

" When you reach Budapest, call upon a man named Alphonso. He shall take you to where you need to go."

" Why?" The man just laughed and the Ghost saw a few bloodstains on the man's teeth.

" My master wishes to meet you. He has heard about your quest and asks if he could help in any way. He is curious about why you are doing this." The Ghost just nodded and swiftly pulling back his weapon, drove the sword into vampire's chest. The man shrieked and exploded into a fine layer of dust that coated everything. The Ghost sat back down and staring out the window, began to laugh silently to himself. His first stop in Budapest, Dracula's summer home.

* * *

**_Thxs to those reviewing, but here's to those who love adventure for you're about to go on the ride of your life!_**


	10. Part II Chapter III

The air was smoky and sour tasting as they got off the train and Sherlock coughed. Earlier when he awoke the Ghost was asleep and making sure not to disturb him he crept quietly from his seat. The top of the seat was dusty and Sherlock shrugged not knowing what it from. He used the loo in the back of the car, and creeping back to his seat, suddenly heard unearthly singing. He couldn't name the tune and he dropped to his belly and crawled closer. A woman was sitting there and the Ghost was as white as the mask he wore. She moved slightly and Sherlock gasped. She was a projection that could sing. It reminded him of someone saying that they heard the sweet voice of the angels above. She sang to a tune that only she could hear; yet it was the lyrics that chilled him.

" _I am the voice of never-never land._

_The innocence, dream of every man,_

_I am the empty crib of Peter Pan."_

She suddenly disappeared taking the song with her. Sherlock heard the once strong unbreakable Ghost sobbing quietly. His heart wrenched out to the poor man who would and was spending his life on the search for this young lady whom he had a special bond with. An ache formed in Sherlock's heart where he knew only a woman could fill.

" You can come out of your memories now if your don't mind." The Ghost stated matter of fact. Sherlock shrugged and followed his guide to wherever they were going. The Ghost was looking, Sherlock could tell but for what he didn't know. Suddenly he felt an icy hand grab the crook of his arm. Sherlock yelped and turned to face a man dressed in the suit fashion with pale skin that seemed almost translucent.

" Alphonso I presume?" The Ghost appeared over Sherlock shoulder and the man nodded. The Ghost stepped out from behind Sherlock and followed this Alphonso to a carriage pulled by a pair of midnight black horses. Alphonso opened the carriage door for them and piling in, he felt the man's eyes run over his body. Sherlock shivered and picturing the worst, snuggled and hunkered to his coat. The man eyes only gleamed and he smiled wickedly. The Ghost's hand though, shot out and wrenching the door out of the man's hand, slammed it.

" Idiot." The Ghost snarled and he leaned back and got comfortable.

" You might want to relax. I don't know how long this is going to be and the person we are meeting wouldn't like us falling asleep on his doorstep. Also I wouldn't want to see the red color of blood spilling all over the floor."

Sherlock was horrified as he felt all the blood drain from his face. The Ghost smiled, a smile that Sherlock knew he would never forget. He settled back and leaned his head against the cold winter glass as he felt the carriage begin its trip to the place it came from.

" Wake up but don't make a sound" The Ghost suddenly felt Sherlock's hand over his mouth. The Ghost sat up and nodding felt Sherlock's hand release.

" They drugged us when we got in. But now I don't know what happened or where we are." Sherlock's frantic whisper made the air in the carriage feel tense as a drum skin. Opening the door, Sherlock stepped out with the Ghost behind, sword drawn. He eyed the sword, steel bathed in the cold light of silver. The Ghost could feel the weight of the metal and how his body moved with its motion, controlling it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on the back of his neck and twisting the sword in an arc came face to face with a young man. Looking at least 30 years old, he was wearing a black suit that appeared from a lost era and had the features of a picture that was painted in the Opera House's chapel.

" I believe you are our host?" The man smiled and bowing in reply motioned to a door at the far end of the room.

" Will you join me in my parlor?" His voice was deep and heavily accented even though he spoke English fluently. The Ghost sheathed the sword and grabbing a curious Sherlock, who was, at the moment, reading Chinese of one of the blue painted vases, followed the man. Contrasted to the dark of the hall, the room was lit by a chandelier made of iron and decorated with candles. The room was warm and inviting, but the Ghost keen eyes saw that this office was rarely used. Motioning them to sit, he began by waving the door open. Two young women, dressed in very little, came in carrying trays made of pewter and offered the m cups of coffee. The Ghost declined but Sherlock didn't and taking a sip, found it to be overcooked. The Ghost smiled and asked the man who the women were.

" They are my wives. One of them is refusing to show though." He sighed and waved the women away. The Ghost heard the door shut behind him and leaning forward asked the one question he came for.

"Where is my Christine?" The man laughed. Teeth, sharp and pointed filled his mouth. The Ghost moved so fast for his sword he nearly cut of Sherlock's hand. Sherlock leaped back with a yelp, knocking over the chair allowing the Ghost to have more room and flinging the heavy desk away, placed the sword to the man's neck.

" Where is my Christine?"


	11. part II Chapter IV

The cold air blew a flake of snow into the kitchen; it fell lazily onto the warm counter and melted as I watched. I sighed, the coffee in my hand kept the chill away, but until Raoul returned there would be no fire. Wherever I was, Raoul made sure I couldn't find a way out. A sharp pricking sensation interrupted my thoughts and I rubbed my neck absent mindly. It has been ten years of jumping all over the map for a place to stay where Erik couldn't find me and the one place we find is Castle Dracula. My agile fingers found the scar where Raoul drove what he called a "microchip" into my spine. He said that if I tried to remove it, I would die in the attempt and if I tried to run away, I would either die or be tracked down using the chip's powers. He didn't tell me anything more about it, but I did learn one thing: I couldn't vanish anymore. Where the chip was placed it blocked the teleportation signals from my brain to the rest of my body preventing me from going anywhere. My thoughts wandered idly just like the snowflake and soon my coffee grew cold in the frigid Transylvanian air. Dumping it I wandered throughout the castle, my feet making no noise on the cobblestones. If there was one thing I learned from Erik that I probably valued the most, it would his ability to move like a panther. Stalking, waiting, then pouncing on his prey. My body lunged and grabbed an empty suit of armor that stood as guard against the wall; fell clattering into a room I had never seen before. It was a library, books lined the walls completely and I felt a surge of joy rush through me. I wouldn't be bored anymore. My glee was evident and running up to one of the shelves, pulled a book out. "Don Juan" it read by Lord George Byron. I shrugged; one book is better than nothing. Soon I found a warm spot in the cold library and opening began to read. The day passed quickly as I read and deep within those pages I found something that I never knew existed. Erik was in there, a mere character on the parchment true, but he was in there. I wanted to cry but no tears could be conjured up and any that were able to exist, froze into little pearls on my cheeks. When I was done reading, night had fallen plunging me into a darkness that was like ink. No candles lit this place, the air grew frostier still with my breath making little clouds in the air before me. I stood as quietly as I could when suddenly the window that was on the far side of the wall, with its red wine velvet curtains flew open, letting in the icy beams from the moon. I panicked and ducked down again, the book wrapped tightly in my arms. I could make out three voices, all women but with such heavy Transylvanian accents that I couldn't make out what they were saying. My thoughts automatically turned back to Erik," Remember when singing, you must feel the music flow through you. If you don't you'll sing off key and then I couldn't be in help to you my child." My eyes opened and my breathing calmed, I knew I could make it out of here, all I had to do was listen to the music. There was a record on, I couldn't place the tune but it also provided me cover. Waving my hand I placed the record player on one of the highest shelves of the library and waited. Soon the talking ceased and I took my chance. Waving my hand again I turned the volume up as loud as it would go, with that I was on the move. My body twisted and moved with the moonbeams and I was nearly to the door without being caught when a hand shot out and grabbed me. One of the women, I fought like hell to get free but she only laughed.

" Look Marshika. Our master has blessed us with fresh blood tonight and we don't even have to go out to get it."" Another women chuckled and I felt a long tongue slither past my left ear. My body shivered involuntarily, when Erik's voice filled my head once again. " You must follow the notes like a path. Twist and turn with them, as they follow the music then you too will be following the music also. " Suddenly I felt a letter opener in my hand. The woman pushed me down onto one of the desks that littered the library. My hand deftly opened it, with a quicksilver flash in the moonlight; I felt cold blood cascade over me. A scream was heard and flinging myself up with only letter opener as a weapon ran to the library door. I tried to yank it open but the heavy iron bolt stayed put and I screamed with frustration.

" Well, our master must be testing us. He gave us some good prey tonight. So feisty. " A voice was heard over my right shoulder followed by laughter that echoed all around me. Taking in my surroundings, I saw " Don Juan" Lying in a puddle of silver light and if there were going to be one thing I was taking with me, besides my life it would be that damn book. I ran for it, slashing out at anything that moved, my body moving with the notes of the song. I could tell the creatures turned it down, and waving my hand turned it loud again. Suddenly a plan popped into my head. The books that would be my weapon of choice. Grabbing "Don Juan" I tucked it to my shirt at the girdle and raising my hands brought the books down from the shelves. Most of them were extremely heavy and could leave someone with a cracked skull if they weren't careful. But these women were human, I could tell by their smell, of rotting flesh and dead blood, these women were vampires and I was their victim. The only question I had was, who was this master they keep referring to? Suddenly I saw a black shadow fall across the floor behind me and the feeling of fear made me fling all the books in any direction and as the world went black, I could cries of pain and someone caught me with warm hands.

" You'll be alright Christine. I have you my child."


	12. Prt II Chap V

Christine awoke to the feeling of hands on her forehead.

" She'll be alright. Just fainted that's all; A common symptom in young children when they get excited. Make sure she takes this and keep her bed tomorrow if you don't want another repeat of what happened today. " The voice faded, only to be replaced by a voice that I couldn't place.

" Christine?" Come on wake up." The voice pleaded with a grief so great that my heart ached. My mind suddenly pictured Erik, begging me to come back, to be with him.

" But I can't Erik. I can't come back, you're life would be in danger." My mouth murmured words that I wanted to tell him all those years ago. A sharp pain startled me awake as a hand whipped across my face. Instead of Erik though, it only turned out to be Raoul. My cheek was flaming and reaching up to touch it gently, could feel the welts of his fingers. This wasn't the first time Raoul had hit me and I knew it wouldn't be the last.

" Why did you leave our apartment?" He hissed and I told him I was bored. A sinister smile ran across his face and pulling out " Don Juan" from my girdle opened it.

" Well do you want me to read to you?" I merely shrugged and he began reading.

Dracula didn't flinch as I held the sword to his neck. Sherlock was in awe at what just happened but he wasn't showing it.

" I know where your Christine is, but I won't tell you. I have a standing…" The pause made the room so quiet I could hear Sherlock's heart beat.

" Engagement." Dracula finished with a ghostly caricature of a smile. I felt my heart stop, but I knew that this man wouldn't hurt her. She was with Raoul and his life was mine.

" Please." The plea was made with a voice that I didn't recognize; a voice that I had reserved long ago for Christine. Dracula's eyes darkened slightly with anger, but deep within, the look of lost love.

" Please sit. I must explain who she is." His voice was cool and factual, but his immortal eyes were Artic blue with feeling. I picked my chair up and sat down again, this time with the sword across my lap.

" Christine Daae is what we would call a Half-blood, or born of two different blood lines. In this world, there are humans and other creatures such as myself. Where her father lived gave him access to the city of the Northern Elves." I saw him shudder slightly and his tone of disgust explained everything to me about him and these elves.

" Its rare, but every now and again, humans and other creatures will have children. The reason she has the ability to teleport is her mother's blood, but every Half-blood has a deformity that marks them as a Half-blood." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sherlock's eyes directly to my mask.

" You are not though, but somewhere in your genetics your family had one that is the reason your so…"

" Me" I finished for him and I suddenly felt very exhausted as my body sagged in the chair.

" Aurora. Please take our guests to their rooms." Dracula said and out of the shadows came a girl about 12 years old.

" Come monsieur, I will take you." She grabbed my hand, hers being as cold as death. Sherlock stood and following the young lady out, bade Dracula a good night from both of us.

" Oh it will be a good night my friends." I caught his murmur before the door shut behind us.

" Sherlock, join me in my room. Say that we are together. Do you understand me?" Sherlock nodded quickly. We reached the guest rooms in record time.

" Here you are." Aurora opened the door and ushered me inside. Sherlock tried to follow me, but she stopped him.

" Wouldn't you like your own room?" Her eyes were forced into an unnatural angle as a quizzical look came across her face.

" Please Aurora, he is my…" I knew I had to choose my words wisely. " His right hand." Sherlock butted in hastily and Aurora's eyes widened into friendly understanding.

" So you wish to share the room with him because you work for him?" Sherlock nodded quickly and Aurora let him in.

" Thank you my dear." I replied and Sherlock rushed over to grab me before I fell. " My master is very exhausted, please leave us." Sherlock asked the young girl and she nodded and left, I heard the door latch click shut. Sherlock let me go and sat down on the bed.

" Now listen to me clearly Sherlock. Dracula sees us as food; somehow he is working with Raoul to prevent us from getting us to Christine. The reason why I asked you to stay here is so we can protect each other from whatever will come to try to kill us. Got it?" Sherlock nodded and reaching into his jacket pulled out a revolver.

" Nicked it from one of the men on the train. He didn't even know how to use it." Sherlock smiled and laid down nest to him. I nodded and swiftly pulled out my sword.

" And we have this, along with a handful of daggers." I told him and he smiled again, teeth showing his teeth, pristine white like pearls in the moonlight.

" Silver coated I presume?"

" Yep, and with creatures that hate silver, this might just be our life." I held my sword with practiced ease. I got it in Persia, to protect myself from Persian creatures; the shah's palace was a home to them. I used to practice with the statues in the Opera house, keeping my skills up.

" I'll take first watch." Sherlock told me firmly and led me to the couch. I laid down and placed the sword over my chest.

" God night Sherlock." I told him and he chuckled. " Good night my friend." And on those words, sleep took me like I was merely a little child in its arms.


	13. Prt II Chapter VI

Sherlock's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as his thumb rubbed the worn wood of his new revolver. His delicate touch could feel that the gun had been owned before and maybe even killed someone. Sherlock shook his head, clearing the thoughts that might interrupt his job. Taking a quick glance at the Opera Ghost he saw sorrow line a once proud face, a face that showed emotional scars along with the physical. But the lines somehow accented his emotional state giving a look of wisdom.

" Wisdom hard won." Sherlock muttered and snuggled into the pillows of the bed and started recited the prime numbers to keep himself awake.

"_I remember there was mist..._

_Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake_

_There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat_

_And in the boat there was a man_

_Who was that shape in the shadows?_

_Whose is the face in the mask?"_

Her elegant voice made Erik's heart stop briefly as he told himself not to get up, not to grab hold of her.

" She needs to warm up to you, you liar. Give her time." He mentally scolded himself when he felt her hand caress his bare cheek. Her fingers were gentle but he could feel the hard callousness of someone who knew how to work. His heart collapsed in on itself, she wasn't like Carlotta that lazy… He suddenly felt the cool air of his apartment flutter against his scars.

" Don't move." His conscience froze him to the cushioned piano bench. Slowly he felt Christine's fingers like kitten paws memorize the shape his right cheek and temple. Each touch sent bolts of electricity through him and he reached up almost unconsciously to hold her hand there. But all he could feel was the soft leather of his mask instead. He jumped waking himself up, and grabbing his sword discovered himself face to face with Sherlock. His fingers toughed his lips and he could see a shadow at the window. Erik's heart convulsed with terror at the gigantic shape. His mind swiftly ran through the book of creatures he memorized and placed shadow to creature leaned over to Sherlock.

"What type of bullets is in there?" He whispered and Sherlock held up a box. The label was worn and old but clearly reading black ink, Silver. Erik's heart lighted considerably and he sat up. Suddenly the window exploded as the beast plowed into the bedroom. Erik's cloak flew up and caught the shards of glass before they could cut him or Sherlock and Sherlock once freed of the cloak, pulled the trigger. No bang, not explosion, only a click.

"Damn!" Sherlock cursed and leapt over the couch. Erik sighed, exasperated.

" You should have cleaned the damn gun before hand!"

" I did, give me a second will you?" Sherlock snapped back as the beast grew closer. " What in the hell is it?" Sherlock whined in terror.

" Werewolf." The factual tone made Sherlock stop and study the Ghost. He was sitting on his haunches judging the werewolf with an expert eye.

" He was recently injured. He is limping in his right leg. Suddenly the Ghost moved, a shadow among shadows up and over the couch. The werewolf roared as the Ghost saber cut into its flesh, severing its hand off. The wolf turned and batted the Ghost with its other paw into the bed's backboard. He collapsed and the werewolf turned on Sherlock, its brown fur shining with silvery light from the moon. A low growl echoed through the room and through Sherlock. The last bullet slid into place and Sherlock swung up with the gun ready to fire, but the werewolf was faster. The gun flew from his hand, hitting the back wall with a resounding crash. Sherlock ducked and slid through the beast's legs as it lunged forward, a trail of blood making the floor slick. Sherlock crawled to the window, feet and legs flailing wildly against the hardwood floor. Suddenly he felt the werewolf's paw grab his left leg hoisting him high. A scream, unintentional, broke from his throat. He could see the wolf's blue eyes judging the easiest way to kill him. The beast turned towards the window and looked out to the ground below where Sherlock could see the raging river just beyond a cove of rocks. He shuddered at the thought being dashed to pieces. The werewolf must have though so too, because he flung Sherlock back into the room. Sherlock yelped as he felt his arm give, the wolf growled knowing his prey was injured descended upon Sherlock, a horrible bringer of death. Looking towards the bed he saw, no one. No Ghost, no person, but looking behind the wolf, Sherlock could see his silhouette, a dark angel to defeat a dark creature. A shot rang out, cold and pure in the frosty silence. The wolf turned and Sherlock could see his gun in the Ghost's hand, it poised to release another bullet.

" I'm the one you want not him." The werewolf eyed the intruder and let out a roar that shook the room's foundations. Another shot pieced the night air, this time lodging beneath the wolf's right nostril. It howled in pain, clutching its now destroyed muzzle. It let out another roar, before charging at the Ghost; its massive body heralding the doom of the Opera Ghost. Another shot rang out, but the wolf didn't stop; one more shot and the wolf flew with the Ghost out the window. Sherlock heard the Ghost scream and the wolf howl as he ran to the window. The moon reflected off of the shattered glass and off the ripples in the river below where no man or beast surfaced to claim victory in one of Nature's most primal battles. Sherlock felt his arm throb and finally his world dim into blackness, as the remains of the window became his new bed.

* * *

R&R. Always Appreciated.


	14. Prt II Chapter VII

The water was cold, making my blood freeze. Forcing myself not to gasp in my underwater tomb, I quickly untangled myself from the dead werewolf and began swimming. The surface seemed to be miles away, but years of living with a rushing river through your domain every time the winter snow melted I knew that it was actually only a few feet more. I surfaced, coughing up the bitter water; the lights of Budapest glittering around me.

Suddenly a loud screech echoed around me. Looking up I saw a monstrous shape diving bombing into the water. Ripping off my mask quickly, I dove back underneath the water. A few seconds later I heard a gigantic splash hit the water a few feet from me. I could barely see the creature swimming towards the werewolf carcass; I swam with my all my strength to blend into the oily water. I didn't look behind me; I just swam, trying to make it to shore quickly and quietly. My feet soon hit ground and I stumbled onto the beach, my body exhausted from each my monumental events. My back and head throbbed from where they hit the bed; there were scratches from the werewolf when it grabbed me and I felt my shoulder burning. Ripping open the sleeve of my shirt, I saw dark patches of blood forming and leaving trails down my arm. But it was a bite mark, I knew that much. I had been bitten before and the pain was there, but this was different. I laid back feeling the ground shift under my weight, the wound on my shoulder burning with icy brilliance. A moan escaped me, followed by another and another, along with a few groans in between. I turned over, my guts heaving within me, bile surged and I retched any food I had in my belly onto the cold sand. Looking down at my palms I could see black fur grow and my bones ached, stretched and ground together, forcing my body into unnatural positions. A growl replaced the scream that bubbled in my throat.

" No. This will not happen!" I screamed to myself, but the wolf was stronger. All around me chunks of my skin fell and I could feel my nose and mouth elongating. My teeth were growing in my mouth; I could feel my ears migrating. The whole process was shocking, but not necessarily unpleasant. Soon it was done, my body muscled and well defined. Raising my head, I let out a howl from deep within me.

" Ok, I like this." My body was perfectly balanced and I felt my ears twitch following the sounds of the city. It was a sudden thought that stopped me from going any further.

" Lets see if I can." I began forcing myself to change back. Deep within me, I could feel the wolf roar and try to be in control but I forced it down and transformed back into myself. I stood on my two human feet and rubbed my sweaty face with human hands, but my once expensive clothes were in tatters all around me. Along with them were chunks of flesh and fur from both transformations. The sight made me want to throw up again but I had no food in my stomach so I resisted. A small smile came to my scarred lips and slowly walking u the beach found shelter underneath one of the docks to recover from what just happened.

* * *

I waited as he read; slowly his voice dropped into a whisper then a snore that told me I could move. Slowly standing I took the book from Raoul's nerveless hands then swiftly got dressed in a pair of breeches and one of Raoul's old shirts. He had gained weight watching me and now he wasn't the skinny man but quite portly. I smiled quietly to myself and tucking the book into the girdle that he had carefully unwound from me, I ran out the door. The castle was silent and cold, but with sunlight pouring through the windows. At first I couldn't believe my luck as it was daylight and vampires couldn't face the sun, but looking through a window, realized the peril I was now in. The sun was setting and quickly even as I watched. Running down the stairs as fast as possible, I felt a sudden prickling sensation down my neck.

" Where do you think you're going?" His accent was cold and accurate as the Transylvanian air making all the hair in my neck to stand on end painfully.

" I am going out my liege. I am one of your servants." The words came to my mind on terror and the man laughed. He walked closer to me, yet I didn't want to turn and face him for deep within me a dread boiled and I knew if I looked I would run in terror. I felt the very tips of his fingers run over my shoulder inducing a shiver from the core of my being.

" I have no servants. I have my brides, but no servants so who are you?" He lifted my chin and I came face to face with a man only 2 inches taller than I was. His ice blue eyes drilled into mine and I could feel no pulse run through his fingertips commanding me to tell him.

" You are the one the masked man was looking for." He murmured and a gasp of surprise echoed through the hall. He smiled slightly; it tugged the corner of his thin lips, never to form into a full smile. " I can see why." His breath was hot, strange for a dead man I thought, but a sharp wave of arousal drew me from thinking. Raoul tried to convince of spending a night with him, but he never could make my blood burn with passion as this man was, quite easily in fact. His face was close to mine; his eyes were dark blue with lust, lust that I too shared. I watched over his shoulder as the night fell, to encompass both of us.

" Spend the night with me." His whispered and a stab of pleasure burned through me like fire. " I will not be one of brides." I stated and he chuckled.

" I never planned you to be. I just think you need some _relief_." I licked my lips at the word and I felt his lips on mine. They were soft, but skilled as he pried my lips open. I moaned this was a new feeling for me. His hands, with those long fingers were exploring with precision over my heated skin; I grabbed his shoulders as he began to nuzzle my neck.

" Not here. Not where Raoul can see." I managed to gasp, I felt him against my stomach. He leaned back studying me and swiftly nodded. He ducked down and placing his arm at the back of my knees lifted me up with ease. I squeaked in surprise and he smiled, his eyes even darker. Suddenly the world had changed, instead of being in the stone hallway; we were in a room that was wonderfully decorated. The curtains were blood red, as was the bedspread. The bed was wood and detailed with pictures of the Carpathian landscape. I sighed, it reminded me of Erik, but he wasn't here and this man was. My body ached with a new sense of pain and I felt the man slowly set me down on the bed. His hands wandered over my clad torso, until they reached my girdle. I felt him pull it out the book and tossing away, undid my girdle. Soon the rest of my clothes were off, his fingers tracing over my bare skin leaving burns then chills. My mind was telling me to leave, but pleasure over ruled and I felt his porcelain skin against mine, cool and commanding. Shutting my eyes I let him have his way with me, my body responding with waves of ecstasy.

" You have never done this have you?" He murmured. I could feel him against me, and I had the sudden impression of hot iron. " No, I haven't." I heard him laugh; it was light but husky with desire. " Then I'll take easy with you." He said and plunged. I groaned, pain only adding to the pleasure and slowly but surely I felt the heat in my belly again, begging. Above me I could feel him tremble, his dead heart beating. " Oh…" His mouth captured mine as fire surged through him and me at the same time. We lay there for a few moments, his eyes widened with shock at what just happened.

" I am so sorry." He murmured in my ear and I hugged him. I didn't know why, but I did and I could feel his heart beating in time with mine.

" Your heart, it's beating."

" I know; you managed to restart it." I couldn't help laughing. " I know that women want to have a man say their heart is theirs, but this puts a whole new meaning to that." He shrugged and using his forearms, meant to release me, but I quickly turned over and pressed myself against him. He wrapped his muscular arm around me and I quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Sorry, had writer's block. R&R


	15. Prt 2 Chapter VIII

When I awoke, the sun was just peeking over the horizon as if it was wondering to warm Transylvania or not. I could still feel the man behind me, though I didn't know his name, and I felt him stir. " Morning, sleepy head." I murmured and he moaned slightly.

' My, my, someone slept well."

" Well I had a reason to, I was exhausted." I whispered and untangling myself from him, began to get dressed. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved around the room collecting my clothes. I didn't want to look up at him; afraid if I did I would run back to that bed and go another round.

" Never do a guy more than once in the same day." Carlotta's words came unbidden to my mind. " Hmmm." His hum brought me back to the real world and looking up quickly, saw what I didn't want to see. He lay there on the messed up bedspread in all his chilling glory. I could see why the brides called him master and somewhere deep inside of me I felt the pinch of pride of taking all of him.

" That you did." He answered my thoughts and standing, began dressing also.

" CHRISTINE?" Raoul's frantic voice echoed through the castle scaring me half to death, but it was the man who took it seriously. A low growl vibrated in his throat, it reminded me of a cornered lion.

"Come, I am getting you out of here." He stated. I was pulling on my boots when he came over to me with "Don Juan" in his hands. " Take this and remember me. If you ever need any help just call my name. " His voice hitched slightly, not with anger but with sorrow.

" What about your brides?" He chuckled slightly.

" I can never see them anymore. I would be considered prey to them now since you restarted my heart. See?" He placed my hand over his heart, I could feel it beating and his skin was warm.

" I still have my vampirism, I just don't need blood anymore. Thank you." He said, his voice emotional. " Are you alright?" He smiled, a genuine smile. " It has been a long time since I have felt emotions." He smiled again, and swiftly I kissed him, his lips burning on mine.

" Thank you…" I felt his hand on my shoulder. The world suddenly grew foggy around me and I felt extremely tired.

"Vladislaus." He whispered and the world went black.

Sherlock awoke to a cold rain. He sat up quickly making the word spin out from under him. Lying back, Sherlock ran through his head what happened and panicked.

" Damn that man." He hissed under his breath and he stood and getting his bearings, ran out of the room. The mansion was silent, Sherlock noticed and keeping to the shadows made his way through the house. Soon he came across the host, his black hair tussled and his face red. In his arms he held a young woman wearing a pair of black pants and boots. Her face was smooth and content with sleep, Sherlock smiled at the sight. Who ever this girl was, Dracula was able to carry her easily, but something began nagging at Sherlock's mind. As Dracula disappeared around a corner, Sherlock swiftly followed.

The castle grew even darker as they walked further in, Sherlock following, when Dracula suddenly stopped. " I can hear you." He said softly but it reached Sherlock's keen ears clearly. He tried to push himself into the shadows further making Dracula sigh.

" You managed to survive my werewolf attack, which means you're exceptionally smart. So come out of the shadows I am not going to hurt you." Sherlock obeyed, reluctantly. The sound of his shoes sliding across the stone sent chills up his spine, but even with the bitter taste of fear in his mouth he knew Dracula wouldn't hurt him.

" Your friend, where is he?" Dracula asked, almost conversationally it seemed to Sherlock, almost as if he had a heart.

" He went down with the werewolf." Sherlock heard Dracula's breath hitch, then remain still for a second. " I did not find his body. He is still alive." The statement made Sherlock stop. He could feel a cool wind brush over his face, the hairs on his neck prickled. " I have a job for you, Sherlock…"

" How do you know my name?" Sherlock hissed, shocked into talking. Dracula laughed. It reverberated over the stone, slicing into Sherlock's soul.

" I am a telepath. It allows me to know things that you keep close to your heart." Sherlock saw his canines glimmer in the torchlight.

" But do not worry yourself. I need you to keep watch of this young lady here. She is the woman your friend was looking for."

" Christine?" Dracula inclined his head slightly, but Sherlock saw his hands tighten slightly around her arms. " I will keep an eye on her while you find the Ghost." Sherlock muttered, slightly perturbed about the change of events.

" Thank you." Dracula opened door and inviting Sherlock in first followed. He laid Christine down on the bed gently and placed a kiss on her forehead.

" I'll be back with your prince soon." He murmured and turning to Sherlock thanked him again. " What do I do if things go wrong?" Sherlock couldn't help himself. After the werewolf he was more cautious to trust this man.

" You'll think of something."

* * *

R&R


	16. Prt II Chapter IX

Dracula didn't know why he was looking for this" Ghost" but he was the one that was looking for Christine. As he walked in the shadows, not to stay out of the sunlight, he could now go into it without roasting. His problem was his eyesight; it was trained for the dark, to see the human heat spectrum while he was hunting. Suddenly, his picked up the faint red outline of a human underneath the dock that was only a couple of meters away.

" So that is where you rested for the night." He muttered to himself, a mocking snort accompanying his words. The man was comatose, his clothes torn and blood was seeping from a mix of wounds. But the fur that was being picked up by the rising tide told him one thing: Who ever this man was he survived a werewolf attack and that he could also control the beast. Standing over the man, he could understand at first why she fell for him, he was handsome with dark thick hair and a strong jaw line. But there was an aura of power that emanated from this man that Dracula couldn't explain.

" Hey, wake up." Prodding the man gently, Dracula suddenly found him face down in the sand, his arm nearly being pulled out socket.

" Now what do we have here. Come by to finish the job?" Dracula couldn't pick himself up to answer the question; the Ghost was just strong enough now to pin him down. Coughing as he inhaled some sand, he tried to speak but the Ghost shoved him further into the sand.

" I know where Christine is." He choked out the pressure instantly decreased. But as soon as Dracula moved, he felt the pressure return even worse.

"Where?"

" With Sherlock. He is watching over her." Suddenly he was gone. Dracula stood up and brushed off the sand. With a sigh he began making his way back to his castle.

* * *

Sherlock sat there at her bedside with an almost statute like vigil. The revolver was placed carefully on his lap; ready to shoot and kill anyone or anything that would come through the door. As if on cue, he saw the door handle begin to slowly turn and raising the pistol, took aim with a hunter's eye. Suddenly he felt a hand wrap around his throat as pull him out of the chair he was in. The gun went off, a noise that had startled his attacker just long enough to allow Sherlock to get free. He turned swiftly to have the gun ripped of his grasp and thrown across the room by a red headed young woman in a skimpy outfit.

" Don't play with him. Just kill him and be done with it." It was another woman who had the same type of outfit, but in green. Sherlock puzzled over this and realized that he had met her. She was one of Dracula's brides, but if they were Dracula's brides and he wasn't a vampire anymore… Sherlock bolted over to Christine and tore his father's ring of his finger. Sherlock quickly placed onto Christine's before being thrown across the room and successfully knocked out.

" Kill him I said. I'll get the girl." And grabbing Christine's sleeping form, flew out the chamber. The girl in the pink laughed as Sherlock awoke from his blackout. Helplessly. Sherlock tried to reach for the gun, his mind still groggy and his vision blurred, only to be pinned down by his murderer.

" So how do you want to die?" Her accent only made Sherlock panic a bit more and scrabble on the dusty floorboards like a trapped rat. She laughed again and flipped onto his back; Sherlock suddenly found himself staring up at the ceiling with the woman straddling him.

" So large." She purred as she ground into him and Sherlock felt himself respond. " I am going to enjoy drinking your blood." She whispered in his ear and tilting his head back to expose his throat, lunged forward and bit. Sherlock screamed; the pain was unlike anything he had ever known. Fire flew his veins and Sherlock heard his heart pounding; then his vision changed. At first he saw darkness, the room only shapes and shadows, but as his vision became clearer he could see the heat that being drained out of him and into the girl. Suddenly another shape, big and black broadsided the woman and they went crashing through the brick wall. Sherlock sat up quickly, his pulse quickening as he stared into the dark hole in the wall, only to be startled by a gurgling scream. By the time Sherlock was standing, the creature came back through the hole that it had left. It was a werewolf, black as midnight and stood 7 feet tall. It had claws nearly as long as Sherlock's fingers and canines even longer. But it was its eyes that Sherlock was not quite sure of. That is when Sherlock realized he was wearing a pair of torn pants, also black, but made of a fine cloth that only a few could afford.

" No, you can't be." The wolf descended upon Sherlock, but as he got closer Sherlock saw that he slowly transformed into a familiar face.

* * *

The Ghost nearly collapsed unto the floor but was caught by Sherlock and hauled to the bed.

"What happened?" The Ghost shrugged and placing his head on the pillow caught the sharp scent of cherry blossom. "Christine." He murmured and watched s Sherlock's face dropped.

" The vampires." The words made the Ghost's heart to stop. Suddenly a roar of anger flew from his body, half human, half wolf scaring Sherlock who let out a screech like the one he heard the night before. The Ghost leapt from the bed and pinned Sherlock down to the floor; on the right side of his neck were the two holes that the woman had left, but instead of oozing blood, they were dripping some sort of clear liquid.

" Damn, you are going to hate me for a long while after this, but it will help." Quickly the ghost bit his wrist and flexing his muscles made himself bleed. He watched as Sherlock picked up the scent of blood and grabbing the Ghost's wrist began to drink eagerly like a babe drinking a mother's milk. Slowly, but surely Sherlock grew drowsy and let go of the Ghost's wrist, and the Ghost smiled slowly, who now was pale from blood loss. As the Ghost fell heavily to the floor, Sherlock fell asleep, his body battling the two bloodlines now within him. But the Ghost was not comforted by sleep; instead he dreaded it. The more he slept the less time he had to get Christine and by then she could be dead. He lay awake as the sun set, the room being now lit by blood red candles only to hear a soft voice telling him to sleep.

_" I'll be alright my love. Sleep and be at peace."_ And the Ghost for the first time in his life obeyed Christine.

* * *

Sorry about being so late, had homework. Anyway R&R


End file.
